


"What if we had lunch at my place?"

by gerardsjuarez



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 15 minute fanfic challenge, Holy Water, Lunch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 22:14:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19485091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerardsjuarez/pseuds/gerardsjuarez
Summary: An au where Crowley uses the holy water he's given in a less... obnoxiously murderous way





	"What if we had lunch at my place?"

**Author's Note:**

> Some friends and I had a challenge we called 'the speed fic challenge' where we, well, gave each other a fandom, a prompt, and set that timer. This was mine and I hope y'all enjoy!

Aziraphale had been hesitant ever since he gave Crowley the thermos of holy water. He’d been nervous giving it to him from the start, ever since the 19th century when Crowley asked for ‘insurance’. Why? Mostly due to the fact that all the signs were there: he ‘didn’t mean to fall’ and had ‘sauntered vaguely downward’. He wasn’t like the other demons either, who seemed perfectly fine being what they were. Crowley had invented himself, given himself a new name and look; he could very well destroy himself, too.

And now, after many decades, there was Crowley alive and seemingly doing alright. He didn’t exactly look happy but that was just how he looked. (Unless Aziraphale was around, a small part of his brain told him). He was sat on that stupid bench, messing with the end of his tie.

“New look?” Aziraphale asked, sitting down beside him.

“Yeah. Might keep it for longer than a decade.” He sniffed, “What’s the occasion?”

“For this?” Aziraphale, gesturing to the park around him, “If I’m honest, it’s because I wanted to check up on you.”

“Check _up_ on me?” Crowley stared at him, “You’re _checking up_ on me?”

“Yes! And, really, you should be thanking me! After - after I gave you your ‘insurance’, I’ve been worried that one day you won’t pick up my calls.”

At first, Crowley had been angry, furious even but hearing that scared tone in Aziraphale’s voice made him soften, “I’m not depressed, angel. Can demons even get depressed?”

“Well, your lot invented the emotion, I should think so.” The angel said harshly before sighing, getting over himself, “Just - let us get lunch. Something normal.”

Crowley was just about to follow Aziraphale to their usual place (the ritz) but stopped, “Actually - angel? What if we had lunch at my place?”

“Your place? I didn’t know you could cook.” He looked Crowley up and down.

“We learn more about each other as time goes on, don’t we?”

“Suppose so,” Aziraphale said curiously, following Crowley to his flat.

In the flat, Aziraphale sat timidly at the table, waiting for Crowley to come back into the room with the food. Crowley had promised some kind of stirfry but trying new foods wasn’t why he was worried. He had never been anywhere near Crowley’s place before.

Eventually, with a little smirk on his face, Crowley entered the room with two glasses of tea and one plate of stirfry. Aziraphale looked questioningly at the plate but Crowley didn’t offer an explanation, just a fork instead.

When he took a drink of his tea, he sat shocked in his chair, watching Crowley take his own fork and get himself a bite from the plate. He swallowed, “Not a fan of sharing, angel? Is it too romantic? You know, I didn’t really think this through. I just only have the one plate, I’m afraid.”

“It’s not that and you know it.” Aziraphale put his tea down, “I’m drinking Chamomile and holy water. Is this what you’ve been doing with it?”

“Some nasty _friends_ have been shapeshifting lately.” He shrugged, taking another bite, “Now, let’s eat.”

“Clever,” Aziraphale commented, smiling to himself.


End file.
